


Bound (By the Shackles of Love)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is about the thing they’ve been skirting around for what feels like months, the way they’ve both been pushing the boundaries just a little more in bed, whispered words of “please, please, want you to” and “god, do it, hold me down like this” that make everything burn hotter, brighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound (By the Shackles of Love)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was originally meant to be part of something bigger and more in-depth, but I thought this was complete enough to stand on its own.
> 
> This will also be my last contribution to the fandom. It's been an insanely awesome 3 years writing for this show and these guys, and for everyone who has taken the time to read anything I've written, and I will surely miss it.
> 
> Title taken from Maroon 5's _How_.

“Are you sure?” Kendall asks, for what feels like the thousandth time.

Carlos can’t help the roll of his eyes, the sigh that falls from his lips. “Yes, Kendall,” he says, “I’m sure.”

Kendall nods, transfers Carlos’ wrists from his hand to the scarf he has tied around the headboard, looping the fabric around the delicate bones, tight enough that Carlos can’t pull free, but loose enough that it won’t cut off his circulation.

“Good?” Kendall asks, hand looped around Carlos’ wrists above the fabric.

Carlos pulls experimentally at the bindings, tests their give and strength. “It’s good,” he says, words rough and gritty.

Kendall nods again, scoots back until his ass is flush with Carlos’ hips, the heat of Carlos’ dick pressed between the cheeks of his ass, cockhead skimming across his hole. He wants to rock back onto it, push his fingers up into himself to prep himself for Carlos’ dick, sink down onto him and feel Carlos splitting him open, but that’s not what this is about, not now.

This is about the thing they’ve been skirting around for what feels like months, the way they’ve both been pushing the boundaries just a little more in bed, whispered words of “please, please, want you to” and “god, do it, hold me down like this” that make everything burn hotter, brighter.

It burns Kendall from the inside out, the marks his fingers leave on the smooth, sensitive skin of Carlos’ wrists, stokes the possessive fire in his belly seeing them there, and it makes his heart beat triple-time in his chest the way Carlos is proud of them, the way he presses his own fingertips into them, that glimmer of heat and arousal flashing in his eyes at the pain-pleasure they create.

The scarf is new, though, a whispered plea in the dark of the night, Carlos’ lips against the skin of Kendall’s chest when he said, “Want you to tie my wrists next time, Kendall, please.”

The sight of Carlos spread out on the bed below him, wrists tied neatly together to the headboard, makes Kendall so hard it hurts, arousal making his head swim. It’s so good like this, Carlos’ hands bound, but he’s still free to move, to skim down the sides of Carlos’ face, his neck, tickling along the line of his collarbone, down his chest to his nipples, Kendall’s thumbs brushing over and around them until they’re tight and peaked, down the lines of his ribs to the soft flesh of his belly, to the cut of his hips, thumbs pushing hard against thin skin stretched over bone.

Carlos is gorgeous like this, skin flushed even darker with arousal, sweat glistening in the light, eyes heavy-lidded as he fights to keep them open, keep them on Kendall’s every move. Kendall loves that he can sit back on his haunches between Carlos’ spread legs, can see every inch of Carlos this way, hips jerking up into nothing as he waits, waits for Kendall’s next move.

Kendall trails his fingers down the inside of Carlos’ thigh, pushes Carlos’ leg up and holds it there, other hand skimming down the burning heat of Carlos’ cock, the seam of his balls, behind to the sensitive skin there, dry pad of his finger circling the hole.

Carlos hiccups out a breath, entire body jerking with it, asshole clenching against Kendall’s finger. “God, c’mon,” he says, circles his hips, the movement futile when Kendall pulls his hand back.

“Shh,” Kendall says, soothes, head bent low to press soft kisses against the inside of Carlos’ thigh. The lube’s right beside Carlos’ hip and Kendall wastes no time grabbing it, says, “Keep your leg up like this for me,” before he lets go, flicks open the cap on the lube and squeezes it over his fingers.

“So good,” he says, slick fingers sliding over the sensitive rim of Carlos’ hole, back and forth, back and forth, until Carlos starts rocking down against him. Kendall puts his free hand back on Carlos’ leg, lifts it a little higher until Carlos’ ass is raised off the bed, tip of his finger sinking into that smooth, tight heat.

“More, more, c’mon,” Carlos says, begs, scarf pulled tight with the way he’s moving.

Kendall keeps at it with the single finger, works it in and out even though Carlos is plenty relaxed around it, only moves on to two when the rush of blood in his ears threatens to overtake everything. Carlos opens to them easily, hips rocking steadily back and forth, trying to get them in deeper.

“It’s good, Kendall, come _on_ ,” he says, voice deep and low.

Kendall smirks, nips at the skin at the side of Carlos’ knee, angles his fingers up into that spot that has Carlos thrashing against the bed, sheets surely soaked through with the way he’s sweating. Kendall keeps sliding his fingers against Carlos’ prostate, his own dick jerking and throbbing at the sight of Carlos’, the puddle of precome on his belly the hottest fucking thing ever.

Kendall finally slides his fingers out, grabs the lube and slicks up, guiding the tip of his dick to Carlos’ hole. He pushes in slow and steady, tight heat wrapped all around him, balls already pulled up tight. It feels like it takes years before his hips are finally flush against Carlos’ ass, and he has to pause and take a few steady breaths to keep himself under control.

Slow roll of his hips and Kendall slides out, fingers tight on Carlos’ leg as he slams back in, again and again until it feels like his breaths are being punched from his lungs, then slow, smooth jerks in and out, Carlos’ hips angled perfectly to keep Kendall’s dick against his prostate.

“Think you can come like this?” Kendall asks, soft and breathy and low.

Carlos swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, just keep—god, right there.”

Kendall does, fingers digging bruises into the skin of Carlos’ thigh, hips slamming repeatedly against Carlos’ ass, orgasm creeping up his spine. He fights it as hard as he can, keeps fucking into Carlos with rough, steady thrusts, breathing rough and ragged. “C’mon, c’mon,” he says, “wanna see you lose it for me.”

Carlos throws his head back, smooth line of his throat bared, wrists tugging and tugging at the scarf, entire body locked tight as he comes, spatters of white against his belly, chest, a shot high enough it pools in the hollow between his collarbones.

Kendall tries to keep moving through it, but Carlos is locked around him, ass clenching almost painfully tight, ripping the orgasm right out of him, hot, steady pulses into Carlos’ ass until he’s shaking, can barely hold himself up.

He rubs his thumb over the ridge of Carlos’ hipbone as he pulls out, hiss escaping at the way Carlos flutters around him, too much stimulation when he’s so sensitive. He can’t help but marvel at how thoroughly fucked out Carlos’ hole looks, rim shiny and swollen, come leaking out. God, but he wishes he had more energy, wants to slide his fingers through the slick mess, push it back up into Carlos or rub it into the skin of his ass.

Kendall sighs, thoroughly sated, watches the rise and fall of Carlos’ chest while he unknots the scarf, fingers rubbing over the red marks on Carlos’ wrists. “You good?” he asks, flops down onto the bed, pulling Carlos close.

“Very,” Carlos replies, soft sleepy smile on his lips.

“Good,” Kendall says softly, brings Carlos’ wrists to his lips, soft kisses against the skin. He massages Carlos’ hands, arms, shoulders, hands moving delicately over skin until Carlos’ eyes flutter shut, breath evening out. Too tired to move, he uses the edge of the blanket to wipe the cooling come from his cock, Carlos’ stomach and chest, curling as close to Carlos as he can get when he’s finished.

Surrounded by the heat and scent of Carlos, it doesn’t take long before Kendall’s eyes to drift shut, sleep coming almost immediately.

\--

The bruises around Carlos’ wrists aren’t anywhere near as bad as he thought they would be, faint splotches of color on the sensitive skin of the insides, but knowing the reason they’re there, that they’re his marks, burns hot and low in Kendall’s stomach, a fiery burst of possession that swims through his veins.

Carlos seems more aware of them than ever, fingers sneaking under the cuffs of his sweater, tracing the lines of them when he thinks no one’s looking. It makes Kendall smile, the way Carlos loves wearing his marks.

It strikes a chord somewhere deep inside him when he realizes Carlos fingers the marks when a situation gets too tense, too chaotic, frantic and overwhelming, like he needs to touch them to ground him. It has Kendall reaching out before he can even think about doing it, fingers circling Carlos’ wrist, loose enough that Carlos can break free if he wants, but he doesn’t, twists his wrist around and around until Kendall gets the hint and tightens his grip, feels the fingers of his bones digging into the bones of Carlos’ wrist.

Carlos’ entire body relaxes, puppet with its strings cut, loose-limbed and pliant. It’s scary, heady, the feel of Carlos’ trust and dependence, all held in his hands.

It’s clear how much Carlos needs it, though, that sense of grounding, the way their schedule has been jam-packed all week, meetings after recordings after rehearsals after fittings after photoshoots, lists of endless activities and appearances that never seem to end, leave Carlos a ball of unrestrained energy, words too loud, actions too big, fidgeting like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

There’s no time to take any kind of break, the moments of downtime they have filled with Gustavo and Kelly and a rundown of what’s next on the agenda, too many people around to try anything. The way they’re split up doesn’t help anything, either, Kendall stuck with James or Logan for whatever interview they’re needed at, almost never in the same place as Carlos unless they’re at home asleep, and then it’s too risky with everyone in the apartment, walls too thin for anything to be done.

Kendall’s ready to pay them all off, get them out of the apartment for a couple of hours, or hell, even rent a fucking hotel room, something, anything, this need clawing under his skin to help release all that pent-up energy.

Relief finally comes at the end of the week, the last of interviews and photoshoots finally finished, James and Logan off to who knows where, Katie and Mom away at a spa for the weekend.

Kendall almost can’t breathe when he and Carlos finally get to the apartment, door locked shut behind them. Carlos is bouncing around, mouth going a mile a minute as he chatters on about Kendall doesn’t even know, fingers tugging and twisting at the strings of his hoodie.

He goes straight to their bedroom, leaves the door open behind him, shuffle of Carlos’ feet against the floorboards as he follows. He toes off his shoes, shucks off the plaid button-down, sits at the end of the bed with his hands in his lap.

“Carlos, come here,” Kendall says, calm, even sound of his voice shocking him, almost certain it should sound as shaky as he feels.

Carlos comes obediently, silent, waiting, muscles tense for the half a second it takes Kendall to reach out, loop his fingers around Carlos’ wrist. Carlos falls to his knees, smooth, practiced move that makes Kendall’s insides shake and quiver.

Kendall lifts Carlos’ hand, mouth wet and open as he presses it to the pulse in Carlos’ wrist, hint of teeth scraping against it. “Hands or scarf?” he asks, tip of his tongue peeking out, taste of skin and sweat melting on his tongue.

“Either,” Carlos says in a rush of breath, lashes fluttering against the swell of his cheeks.

“Up,” Kendall says, stands, pulls Carlos up with him. His free hand slides up the expanse of Carlos’ stomach, fingers catching on the zipper of his hoodie, quick drag down until the fabric parts. He helps Carlos out of it, throwing it off to the side, pushing up at Carlos’ shirt until he takes that off, too.

“On the bed,” Kendall says, quick squeeze of Carlos’ hand before he lets go. “On your back, arms above your head.”

Carlos nods and moves, spreads out on the bed without a second thought, Kendall slipping out of the rest of his clothes as Carlos’ hands go up, wrists crossed.

The scarf is in the drawer of the nightstand, buried under piles of useless paper, bottle of lube wrapped inside. Kendall sets the lube on the bed, sits beside Carlos, slinky soft fabric trailing up Carlos’ stomach, his chest, circles over his nipples, up the smooth skin of his throat, over to his bicep, tickling the bend of his elbow before finally circling around his wrists, loops and knots securing him to the headboard.

Kendall leans in, rubs the tip of his nose against Carlos’, angles his head until their lips slide together, sweet and soft and slow until Carlos’ tongue flickers out, turns it hard and hungry, chase of tongues against teeth, fleshy insides of cheeks, nips and bites to lips.

Kendall pulls back, chest heaving, trails his lips down Carlos’ jaw to his neck, teeth scraping, lips fastening, blood rising between the seal of them.

Carlos pulls in a breath, throat moving against Kendall’s lips as he swallows. “God, Kendall,” he says, mouth falling open on a loud sigh.

Kendall sucks harder, uses a little more teeth, laves over it with his tongue when he pulls back. The skin is slick with saliva, glistening in the light, red already edging into purple and blue. He marvels at the mark, pushes his thumb into it, heat and blood against his finger.

He slides his lips down, keeps them soft and supple with the drag of his tongue, teeth teasing at the hardened points of Carlos’ nipples.

Carlos is already leaking against his stomach, head of his cock slick and shiny and so fucking red, and Kendall sucks it into his mouth, dips his tongue into the slit, burst of precome exploding in his mouth. Carlos thrusts his hips up, slides deeper into Kendall’s mouth, tight squeeze of his throat closing around the head and Kendall pulls back, sucks in a shaky breath, says, “Don’t move,” before he takes Carlos in again, cheeks hollowed out as he swallows him down.

Kendall can feel the quiver of Carlos’ thighs, the tensing of his stomach muscles, knows how hard it is for Carlos to stay still, to stop his hips from moving, from fucking into the heat and wet of Kendall’s mouth, and he pulls back, sucks at the tip before letting go, fingers brushing back and forth over Carlos’ hips as he says, “So good, Carlos, god, so fucking good.”

Carlos shivers from the praise, hips locked tight to the bed, sighs and moans filtering the air around them.

Kendall settles on his belly between Carlos legs, taps Carlos’ thigh, says, “Feet flat on the bed.”

Carlos obeys without a moment’s hesitation, legs spread wider as he plants his feet on the bed.

“Good,” Kendall says softly, mouth moving in, tongue flickering against Carlos’ balls before he moves lower, thumbs spreading Carlos’ ass apart, pretty little hole on display.

He drags the flat of his tongue over it, traces the rim in wide circles, quick flash of his tongue pressing in before he withdraws it, over and over until Carlos is begging, pleading, moaning so fucking pretty for Kendall’s fingers, his dick, anything.

Kendall keeps at it with the tip of his tongue, teasing little flicks ‘til Carlos is slick and sloppy wet, slides two fingers in and up, steady relentless pressure against Carlos’ prostate.

“Kendall, Kendall, please,” Carlos begs, thighs tense and straining where he’s fighting the urge to rock his hips down onto Kendall’s fingers.

“Shh,” Kendall says, slick slide of his fingers in and out. “I’ll get you there.”

“Now, now, please,” Carlos cries, chest rising and falling with every quick inhale, exhale.

Kendall’s ready to lose it, balls full and heavy, dick ready to explode at the first touch, Carlos’ breathless whines and pleas winding him higher and higher. “Okay, okay,” he says, slips his fingers out, perfunctory swipe of lube over his cock before he’s positioning himself at Carlos’ hole, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights the urge to go off like a shot at the first touch of all that heat around him.

Slow slide in in in , knees spread and pressed tight to the bed, hands cinching around the scarf on Carlos’ wrists, quick slide out as his grip tightens, loosens with the next slide in.

“God,” Kendall says, voice rough and strained, shake of his head to move his bangs from his eyes.

Carlos nods rapidly, eyes so dark there’s almost no iris, mouth opening and closing on soundless moans and gasps, and Kendall uses it to his advantage, swipe of his tongue over Carlos’ bottom lip before he licks inside, over the straight edges of Carlos’ teeth, teasing at the roof of his mouth as his hips rock in, out, in, out, eating every choked off sound straight from Carlos’ mouth.

His shoulders are straining, ache across the top of his back with this position, but he can’t let go, couldn’t even if he wanted to, keeps the tight-loose-tight-loose with every thrust of his hips, tighter tighter as his orgasm creeps up his spine, sparks like wildfire zipping through his veins.

“So close, Kendall, c’mon,” Carlos says, breathless against Kendall’s lips.

Kendall fucks in harder, squeezes Carlos’ wrists tighter, feels the heat and wet and tight when Carlos’ comes, entire body shaking with it, clenched so tight around Kendall he can barely move.

“God, so good,” Kendall pants, thumb brushing the thin skin of Carlos’ wrist, moan rumbling deep in his chest when he shoots hot and wet inside Carlos. He stays there, hips locked tight to Carlos’ ass, lips brushing back and forth over Carlos’ as he fights to catch his breath.

“Heavy,” Carlos finally says, and Kendall quickly apologizes, didn’t realize he was resting most his weight against Carlos’ body. He lets go of Carlos’ wrists, unknots the scarf and sits up, obscene sound of his dick sliding free when he pulls out.

“Shower?” Kendall asks, shaking out the buzz in his arms and shoulders.

“In a minute,” Carlos says, sated smile spreading across his lips.

“’kay,” Kendall says softly, licking over his bottom lip, feels how sensitive and kiss-swollen it is. “Hey, roll over,” he says, settles beside Carlos when he does, fingers digging into the muscles of Carlos’ shoulders, his arms, working out the stiffness and soreness before it has a chance to settle in.

He finishes with a playful swat to Carlos’ ass, says, “C’mon, shower time,” already slinking away to the bathroom before Carlos can retaliate.


End file.
